


Woof

by helsinkibaby



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Het, Romance, post ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2018-10-28
Packaged: 2019-08-09 05:26:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16443752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: Nick talks to Ellie about a comment she made.





	Woof

**Author's Note:**

> For the lovely people in the Ellick tag on tumblr, and especially the wonderful soul who runs the torresandbishop account and gives us all somewhere to hang our hats before, during and after a new episode! 
> 
> Also for fictober day 24, “you know this, you know this to be true”

“So. Woof?” 

They’re the last two left in the bullpen and Ellie actually startles, so deep in her paperwork that she hadn’t heard Nick coming over to stand beside her desk. It takes her a second to process the words, a second where he says nothing, just stares at her with the tiniest of smirks playing around his lips. Once she realises what he’s referring to, she presses her lips together, hopes that the blush she can feel starting around her chest will actually stay there. 

She doesn’t hold out much hope but it’s nice to dream. 

“Excuse me?” She keeps her voice light, her expression innocent, like she has no idea what he’s talking about. 

His eyes actually dance as he settles himself on the edge of her desk. “Nice try, Bishop,” he says. “You know what you said.” He doesn’t break eye contact with her and she feels that blush creeping along her cheeks. “Not that I can blame you, of course.” 

The urge to roll her eyes is nigh on irresistible, as usual when Nick is preening like that, and Ellie doesn’t even try to fight it. “Well, you know what they say.” She leans back in her chair, affecting an air of surpreme nonchalance. “Clothes do make the man.” 

Nick splays his hand across his chest. If it weren’t for the smile - smirk, really - on his lips, she’d swear he was mortally offended. “Oh, please.” He sounds as amused as he looks. “We both know that’s not what happened.” 

Ellie keeps her eyes wide and deflects for all she is worth. “I know no such thing,” she tells him. “Although I am willing to admit that I happen to think that everyone’s suit raised their game a little.” 

“But McGee,” he counters at once, “did not get a ‘woof.’ Neither did Reeves.” 

Ellie tilts her head, purses her lips as she thinks. “Actually, I’m pretty sure both Alex and I showed plenty of appreciation for Reeves and his tux.” 

Nick’s smirk grows. Slowly. Ellie tries not to shiver. “That may be so. But your reaction to me was a little more... authentic.” The thing is, he’s not wrong. However, Ellie would rather stick hot needles underneath her fingernails than admit that to Nick. The guy’s ego is big enough already. “You know this,” he continues. “You know this to be true.” 

Ellie forces herself to sit up straighter on her desk, to shuffle a pile of papers like she has so many more important things to do than entertain him. “You really do have quite the imagination.” 

Too late she realises she’s used that line on him before. “So I’ve been told.” The smirk is still there but it’s a little more serious somehow. “Recently, in fact.” 

So he remembers too. Ellie tries not to find that interesting. 

She fails. Spectacularly. 

“So here’s the thing.” Something in his tone makes her stop shuffling papers, makes her put them down on the desk, not quite lined up properly. Nothing could make her look into his face. “I think we should go out for a drink.” 

Ellie blinks. That’s what he has to say? “We go out for drinks all the time,” she points out, looking up at him out of sheer surprise. Only when she sees the look in his eyes does she realise that he’s not talking about drinks with the team. 

“Not that kind of drink,” he says. “You and me. Somewhere private. Where we can... talk.” There’s a significant pause before the word “talk” and it makes Ellie’s stomach flip. It’s not an unpleasant feeling. Then he shrugs one shoulder, almost winks. “Or not talk, if you prefer.” 

Heat rushes through her, and not the blush of moments earlier. 

“One drink, Ellie,” he continues and it strikes her with force that she’s never actually heard him use her given name before. She likes how it sounds on his lips. “One drink. If we enjoy ourselves, then we see where we go. If we don’t, then all this little inneundo, outuendo thing we have, it stops. Well...” He rolls his eyes, gives her a grin that makes her want to grin right back. She doesn’t though, mostly because she can’t believe he’s making that proposition, any more than she can believe she’s considering it. “Mostly stop.” 

There’s a long moment where they sit in silence, mostly because she’s thinking about it, running all the numbers, all the possibilities. They ripple through her mind, a steady stream of dominoes falling one by one, no play left unconsidered until she comes to one inescapable conclusion. 

Of course, Nick can’t read her mind, can’t know what she’s thinking. So he pushes himself up off her desk, heads back to his, walking backwards with his hands in the air. “All right, no harm, no foul, just an idea-”

“OK.” 

She talks across him and he stops, movement and voice both. His jaw goes slack and his eyes go wide and he literally boggles at her for a good five seconds. It makes her smile. “Excuse me?” 

She puts her papers not so neatly in a file, shoves it haphazardly into her desk drawer and locks it away securely, all without taking her eyes off him. “One drink,” she says, standing up. “And we see what happens.” 

Nick blinks, blinks again. “Wait, for real?” He seems to be having a little trouble with the concept but that’s ok. Ellie can wait for him to catch up. 

“You’re buying,” she says and that seems to put him on more solid ground. 

“What, because I’m the guy?” He takes a couple of steps towards her as she comes out from behind her desk. They meet in the middle of the bullpen and she stares him down. 

“You did the asking,” she reminds him. “Which means you pick up the tab.” She shrugs airily, like it’s no big deal to agree to go out with your team-mate, in pure contravention of one of Gibbs’s most sacred rules. “I’m an old fashioned girl, Nick.” She’s joking but not really. “You got a problem with that?” 

His right hand is hanging down by his side and she sees his fingers twitch. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to reach for her, but then he takes half a step back and the moment passes. 

The look on his face doesn’t. 

“No problem at all.” His voice is as warm as the smile - not smirk, a genuine smile - on his lips. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Once again, Ellie’s stomach flips. Once again, she likes it. 

One drink turns to two. Two turns to dinner the next night. And the one after that. Meanwhile, Nick never does get to wear the suit he picked out because of McGee and Delilah’s change of plans and their impromptu wedding in their apartment, but Ellie’s actually ok with that. 

Turns out it’s not just clothes that make the man after all and she has to admit, to herself if not to him, that Nick looks pretty good in everything. 

And nothing. 

Nothing is definitely better. 

And when it turns out that he’s of the same opinion about her, well, that’s the best thing of all.


End file.
